


Darker Nights

by TheSilenceIsKillingMe (TheVoice21)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: :/, Because apprently I can't write anything that isn't Talon Dick, Beta we live like Batgirls, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Court of Owls, Gen, In which COO is more active in Dick's childhood, Light Angst, Like I wouldn't call this an angsty fic but it's certainly not fluff, This is so rushed you have no idea, and short, but it's vague, he does love Dick though, i just needed to write it down, implied/refernced Talon Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVoice21/pseuds/TheSilenceIsKillingMe
Summary: Bruce has many fears when he takes in his new ward, Dick Grayson.This one, despite lying forgotten most of the time, was surely his biggest one of all.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Darker Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've had this idea floating around for a while and finally decided to write it out! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Basically, The Court of Owls just meddles a bit more in Dick's upbringing and in Haly's circus in general.

When Bruce took in the young Dick Grayson he was immensely worried. The child, who previously was so full of love and joy, was now consumed by his hate and need for vengeance. The pain of his family’s brutal murder had not yet come to scar, instead leaving a gaping, raw wound so close his fragile heart. It had left the child a mere shell of the bright child he once was.

In what Bruce could only assume was anger, the child had found ways to sneak out in the dead of the night, in the middle of Bruce’s patrol. The child actively sought out his family’s murderer. He found ways to get information, found ways to track Tony Zucco. Bruce was able to stop the child before he killed the man.

In his fear for the child to not be yet another Batman, he placed the child in therapy. Alfred had tried to put Bruce in therapy once upon a time, Bruce had fought with all entitled might and forced Alfred to concede defeat. (It was something Alfred had regretted for many, many years.)

Bruce hoped that therapy would work for the young child, in a way that it hadn’t for him. He hoped and he hoped, he could not have another child out on the streets trying to find peace in vengeance. He hoped that he would never have to see that scarily calm face as Dick held a too sharp knife against a neck too exposed.

  
  
  


Dick had insisted on Bruce training him. Insisted on being Batman’s sidekick. Bruce thought that if he cracked down just a little too hard on the child, just a bit too much studying, a bit too much physical training, the child would give up. Give up and go back upstairs where he could live a normal life. Bruce worried that the child would get himself injured or killed in the streets from lack of experience or skills.

Only something dark and dangerous called the boy forwards and into the life downstairs in the cave and on the streets. Dick eagerly took on the studying, working hard and sitting still longer than any child his age should. Dick took initiative and started furthering his own studies ahead of what Bruce had planned for him, claiming it was ‘too easy.’ Dick took to the physical training like a fish to water. He worked hard on his already spectacular stamina.

Bruce’s worries calmed down, he might not be able to  _ keep _ him from danger but he could give him the skills to protect himself. Bruce could only hope that in another life he would be kept well away from the dark alleyways and darker nights.

Only a new worry started nagging in the corner of Bruce’s mind, sitting there and gathering dust most of the time slowly but surely growing.

_ Dick had skills he shouldn’t. _

It first showed when Bruce introduced Dick to some more technic skills. He started with lock picking, a simple enough skill that in its most basic form even civilians could do.

Dick picked the first lock within seconds, even without Bruce’s teaching. Bruce gave him a second harder lock, and it was finished just as quickly as the first lock was. This continued on for some time until Bruce finally asked him how.

“Well, Mr. Fuchs taught me all he knew! I can do almost all the tricks he can! There’s only some I can’t do because I’m too small. He always had  _ the best _ stories.” 

Voss Fuchs was the escape artist at Haly’s Circus and had a supposedly clean record, only his skills were bordering on illegal. Not to mention Bruce couldn’t find any information of what he did between ages twenty-one and thirty-two.

Bruce amended his mistake and declared his training in lockpicks complete. Surely it was nothing but paranoia.

  
  
  


Only when they went onto profiling (and thus interrogation and lie detection), Dick picked it up faster than he should have. He noticed the smallest of details, small details that only the most experienced profilers could discern.

“Madam Arian taught me how to read a person! It allows one to better read their future! She always gave me Baklava, it was too nutty though.”

There was no trace of anyone with “Madam Arian’’s profile. No birth certificate, no dental checks, not even a school record. She didn’t exist.

  
  
  


It happened again with star throwing, the basics of Batarang throwing. Dick took one look at the star, weighed it in his hand and threw it with extreme accuracy and little caution at the target. Dick then proceeded to giggle at Bruce’s surprised face.

“Mr. Perez likes kids! He taught all the children at Haly’s how to throw knives! I always beat the others though!”

Tomas Perez was an Argentinian under suspicion for armed robbery. Haly had taken him in and given him a new identity at the circus as their resident knife thrower, and thus proceeded to clear his record. Only Bruce had a personal copy of his record as he was a personal investigation in cold cases.

  
  
  


Bruce dismissed it when he introduced Dick to pattern work, the basics of programming. The kid could discern a pattern in a number of seconds and could memorise it in just a few moments more. It was perfectly normal for children to recognise patterns, perhaps he was just inclined towards that. It was nothing to be suspicious of.

  
  
  


When Bruce introduced Dick to programming, his worry came back. He whizzed through the training programs Bruce had set up, spotting and fixing any errors, breaking through the firewalls as if they were putty. 

Dick had no explanation for his skills in programming and hacking, only giving Bruce a one-shoulder shrug before returning back to his Dickens book.

  
  
  


Finally, Bruce introduced him to physical conditioning and the beginnings to martial arts. Not a lot of muscle and stamina training was required as he already had the build of an accomplished athlete. Once Bruce had finally coaxed Dick into properly punching him in their training, he was cautious.

Dick’s punches were stronger than other eight-year-old’s, in fact, they were likely to rival that of a young teenager. Dick, ever the sweet child had noticed Bruce’s weariness and mistook it for shock or pain and profusely apologised rambling about ‘how his family has always been stronger than normal, it’s because the men have been catching women on the traipse for generations and it was in their blood really.'

Bruce gave a weak smile and assured the child that no, he was not hurt and nothing happened really and you don’t have to apologize he was simply surprised that’s all.

  
  
  


And then there were the little things that by themselves served no harm or had any deeper meaning but when they were added to the mix of Dick’s interesting abilities, implied something deeper.

Dick seemed physically unable to call someone by their first name. Even after months of living with Bruce and training with Bruce the child still referred to him as Mr. Wayne, despite Bruce’s countless endeavours to be on a first-name basis with the child. Even Alfred was a very tentative Pennyworth and that single word seemed to physically pain the child.

Dick ate little, drank little, slept little and yet seemed to be the paragon of a perfectly healthy child. Bruce had run a hundred and one tests on the child’s health. He showed zero signs of any form of malnutrition or sleep deprivation. According to Dick, it was another Grayson speciality and both his father and uncle were the same.

Dick  _ hated _ meeting people’s eyes. He would look literally anywhere else to avoid eye contact. It didn’t  _ seem _ to be an anxiety thing, as the child was more than comfortable around anyone and everyone. Bruce had probably only met the boy’s eyes a handful of times despite living with him for near a year.

Dick took anything Bruce said as an order and seemed to do it without even thinking. Bruce had to word his sentences very carefully and emphasize that it was a suggestion if he wanted Dick to take it as anything other than an absolute order. Once or twice Bruce had asked something of Dick that was bound to spark rebellion in even the most obedient and well-behaved children and yet Dick had done it without question.

Dick had no sense of danger, multiple times he had given Bruce heart attacks with his gravity-defying feats. He had no concept that doing dangerous tasks might end up killing him. Merely shrugging and replying that it won’t with no explanation.

Dick tended to never notice minor injuries, which was common enough in young rambunctious children who were as active as Dick was, however, it wasn’t limited to the occasional bruise or scraped knees. Bruce once saw Dick accidentally cut himself with the knife when cooking, only to not register it until the blood started staining the potatoes. Bigger injuries were not a problem thankfully enough, Bruce would not know what to do if it turned out Dick would not notice when his ribs were bruised or a bone was fractured.

  
  
  


It was all these things, bundled into one, pint-sized child that made his worry grow, but he made sure to lay them to rest. Sure, he knew things he shouldn’t, perhaps his iron was always a bit too high, maybe he had habits and quirks that there was no reasonable explanation of, maybe he was even a bit too accepting of murder as a punishment, but he was still Dick Grayson. His not-so-young-anymore ward, who had a smile like the sun and energy that left even Bruce breathless.

.

.

.

And then Bruce discovered The Court Of Owls and Dick’s involvement. His heart dropped at the thought of his ward becoming the emotionless stone-hard killer known as Talon. His heart ached for the pain Dick must have felt when he realised his precious Pop Haly had betrayed his family.

And suddenly all of Dick’s little quirks and habits clicked. Ever since Dick could walk, he was being trained to become a Talon, conditioned to believe things and act certains ways, buried so deep in his psyche that it was unlikely to ever come undone completely.

And Bruce mourned the fact that he was always doomed to live a life in dark alleyways and even darker nights.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Fell free to kudos, bookmark or comment if you enjoyed it!


End file.
